


New Traditions

by pimpernels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Letters, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5536340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pimpernels/pseuds/pimpernels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas at Hogwarts was a curious affair. Some years were crowded, students bustling through the corridors and holding day-long snowball fights on the grounds. Some were quiet, only a handful of students sticking around through the holiday. Minerva McGonagall usually spent her Christmas wandering about the castle, reading in Gryffindor Tower, opening letters in her rooms, and having tea with Pomona Sprout.</p><p>But there was no denying: Christmas at Hogwarts was strange after the War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas, everyone.

Christmas at Hogwarts was a curious affair. Some years were crowded, students bustling through the corridors and holding day-long snowball fights on the grounds. Some were quiet, only a handful of students sticking around through the holiday. Minerva McGonagall usually spent her Christmas wandering about the castle, reading in Gryffindor Tower, opening letters in her rooms, and having tea with Pomona Sprout. 

This year, however, the season felt rather hollow. The days leading up to the holiday had been as bustling and busy as ever, but the halls of Hogwarts felt empty despite the chattering students and the occasional echoing of caroling ghosts. There was no young Colin Creevey pestering her for information about whether he could take photographs of the Great Hall's ceiling, and would the stars show up--no echoes of the latest fireworks developed by the Weasley twins. Ginny and Hermione had gone with the train for the holidays, and for the first time in years Minerva McGonagall felt a little bit at a loss: the last time the holiday had felt so empty, she and the rest of the staff had been reeling from the end of the First War. She felt a brief pang--softened by the years--at the thought that she would never again receive a ridiculous card from James Potter and his friends, or a photograph of Alice and Frank making silly faces, or--

Well. Nothing for it; there was plenty to do, and she still had a dozen or so students to take care of this holiday. She shook herself from her reverie and continued preparations.

But there was no denying: Christmas at Hogwarts was strange after the War.

Christmas morning found her waking early, as was her custom. 

She opened the few presents at the foot of her bed--a new tea set from Pomona, a selection of published letters of Archimedes from Flitwick, a box of soothing tea from Madame Pomfrey, a few letters from former students. She was reading a letter from Oliver Wood when a tapping noise drew her attention away from the latest escapades of Puddlemere United. She folded the letter and went to open the window.

Five owls of varying sizes and colors swirled into the room and landed on the end of her bed. She recognized one of them immediately as it rolled off her bed and onto the floor, where it started bouncing up and down excitedly. 

"Hello again, Pigwidgeon," she said. She crouched down and took a letter as large as Pig himself from the owl's clutches. The owl rocketed up to the ceiling, where it perched on the top of her bed frame and continued to screech at odd intervals in an excited tone. Minerva ignored him and turned to the other owls. 

"Who's next?" she asked them. They shuffled their feet, and a sleek, regal looking eagle owl proffered a leg. "Thank you," she said, carefully taking the letter. A large grey owl came next, followed by a curious owl of middling size that looked as if it wore spectacles. The last, a barn owl, had a small parcel attached to its leg. She carefully loosened it and placed it on the floor with the other letters.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the owls. She huffed a sigh. "I'm afraid I don't keep any food in my rooms, but if you find your way to the owlery, there should be plenty of snacks and water. Unless you require a reply?"

The eagle owl cooed, and the others rustled their wings. They were gone in a moment, leaving only the excitable Pigwidgeon behind.

She ignored him again and turned to her new letters. She chose one at random and opened the seal.

 _Dear Professor_ , she read, _Happy Christmas!_

_I hope this isn't too forward, and I know your day is probably busy with Hogwarts matters and celebrations, and I don't want to take you from any of your plans. But if you do find yourself with a free afternoon, I was hoping you'd join us for a Christmas tea at the Burrow. All the Weasleys are here, and me, and Hermione, and we'd really like you to be here, too. If so, we'll see you at 3 o'clock. If not, then I hope you have a wonderful holiday._

_Harry_

Minerva blinked rapidly and picked up the next letter. The one from Pigwidgeon was, perhaps predictably, addressed to her in an untidy scrawl that brought back memories of marking curiously brilliant essays. Minerva McGonagall had stopped underestimating Ronald Weasley the second she discovered he got past her chess set, and while his practice in transfiguration was certainly nothing out of the ordinary, he did possess a particular level of strategic thinking that not even Miss Granger had ever been able to match.

_Professor_ , she read. 

_I think Harry's going to write to you too--for some reason he doesn't trust Pig--but please do come today. We're all at the Burrow for Christmas, and Harry said we need to start a new tradition, so we decided to start a family Christmas tea. Hermione's already here and Neville's coming over and George said Angelina might drop by, and Ginny's already invited Luna. Harry wanted to ask you and we all told him he had to, so... well, I hope you come, anyway, and happy Christmas._

_Ron_

The next one in her pile was written in neat, trim cursive.

_Dear Professor McGonagall_ ,

_Happy Christmas! I'm so sorry Ginny and I didn't mention this before we left on holiday, but then we hadn't all sat down and decided what new Christmas tradition we wanted to start. Ron kept going on about Quidditch, but then we decided that the weather might not be good for that every year, and Percy started to talk at great length about the unpredictability of weather, so we all shut that down rather quickly._

_In any case, I do hope you like what we've come up with. I know Harry is writing to ask you to tea, but I'm not sure he'll do the invitation justice--that is, I'm not sure he'll explain what it is, and I figured you might appreciate an explanation._

_Ginny and George came up with this idea to have a sort of family tea--no presents, necessarily, just family and tea and whatever biscuits we have on hand, maybe some Christmas crackers and--well, you get the idea. A sort of space for us to sit and talk if we want, a space for us to remember Fred and Remus and Tonks and everyone who.... who should be here but isn't. Andromeda said she'd bring Teddy over for the evening, and Neville said he's coming. George invited Angelina, and Ginny's bringing Luna over... It's just family, just the lot of us. I hope you'll come._

_If so, we'll see you then. And if not, I hope you have a very happy Christmas._

_Hermione_

The next letter Minerva picked up was attached to a package. She set that aside and picked up the single letter left. The handwriting was a bit scattered, slanting in different directions and slightly squished in the corners. 

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_Happy Christmas! I hope you're enjoying the holiday at Hogwarts. I've just realized I've never been at Hogwarts for Christmas, except for the Yule Ball, and I suppose that wasn't really a usual Hogwarts holiday experience._

_I'm not sure if the others have written to you, but just in case they forgot I wanted to invite you to join us all at the Burrow for Christmas tea. I usually spend the holiday with my grandmother and my mum and dad, but this year we're... making new traditions, Harry said. I'm spending the morning with them instead, and then I'll come over to the Burrow for tea. Harry said it'd be at 3 o'clock or thereabouts and to bring family. Grandmother said she would prefer to spend the evening relaxing at Great Uncle Algie's, but I'll be there, and I was hoping you would come, too._

_Hope to see you then, but if not, happy holidays,_

_Neville_

Minerva smiled softly at the letter and tucked it back into its envelope. She picked up the package and the last letter.

_Dear Professor,_

_Harry's just told me he's writing to ask you to our Christmas tea--please come! Hermione's been here since we got back, Neville's coming down this evening, and even Angelina's stopping by--it's family, you know, and it would mean the world to us if you would come, too. I think Mum herself would write to you, but she's up to her elbows in cake batter at the moment and trying to keep Hagrid from deciding to make rock cakes._

_This year has been hard for all of us, and I think it's a good thing to start something new that can grow like we have. I can't promise it will be calm and relaxing, but I can promise that it will be good,  and quite possibly hilarious._

_Speaking of hilarious--bring your broomstick. Don't look at me like that--I know you have one! Hermione gave me a history of Gryffindor Quidditch games a few years ago, and there's no way you've stopped flying, even if you don't do it regularly any more. With you and Angelina here, we might be able to knock the boys down a few pegs._

_Happy Christmas!_

_Ginny_

_P.S. The package is from my mum. She wanted you to have it._

Minerva's eyebrows shot up. She wasn't in the habit of riding her broomstick almost anywhere these days--not in public, anyway. An old muggle phrase sprang to mind as she thought about it-- _it's just like riding a bike!_  Her father had told her that once, when she as young and had protested she didn't remember how to play chess.

She turned her attention to the package sitting on her floor. It looked rather lumpy and rumpled, clearly a bit battered from its trip to Hogwarts. She untied the remaining piece of string and removed the brown paper.

A knobbly jumper fell into her hands, soft to the touch, knit from wool just a bit darker than the trees Hagrid had put in the Great Hall. She smiled and slipped it over her head. She looked over the letters, reviewing the invitations. She paused briefly on Hermione's note about Christmas crackers and checked the time--half past seven. She still had at least an hour before breakfast started in the Great Hall. She dressed quickly, pulling a robe on over her new jumper, and headed to Dumbledore's office. 

(Her office, she reminded herself firmly when she caught herself thinking that yet again. Her office.)

Once there, she climbed one of the many ladders, gave the Sorting Hat a friendly tap (she thought the rip twitched back at her in an ungainly sort of grin), and pulled down a box hidden behind it. She sat at the desk and twisted in her seat to see what Dumbledore's portrait thought of this. 

He winked at her.

She opened the box.

Inside were rows and rows of Christmas crackers. Dumbledore had kept this stash for years, replenishing it every summer from Zonko's and once or twice with a few illicit purchases from the Weasley twins. Some were stacked neatly and labeled with things like "for a small year," "for a big year," "for Madam Pince's favorite students," "for a year with awkward students," "for a year when everyone seems to be sick," or "for an extra laugh." The rest were all jumbled, a mismatch of colors and sizes, with a note in Dumbledore's handwriting on the side that simply said _for when you need them._

When she arrived at the Burrow that afternoon, she was wearing the emerald jumper in addition to her usual hat. She carried a broomstick in one hand, and a curiously bulky bag in the other. The door creaked open, revealing a messy-haired teenager in a knobbly navy jumper. His green eyes widened when he saw Minerva's own jumper and her broomstick.

"Happy Christmas, Potter," she said with a nod, holding out the bag. "I brought Christmas crackers."


End file.
